


cinnamon tea

by winryrockbae



Series: autumn belle [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, even tho she is a trash baby she's MY trash baby, i honestly had to write this because i'd never be able to focus on anything ever again in my life, i need more sylvain than just the skirt chaser bc he is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT, i've been writing her on various platforms and verses since 2013 so pls love her, its going to be prime sad and soft boy hours, so we have my soft oc coming in to see if maybe he will commit, this is honestly so self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winryrockbae/pseuds/winryrockbae
Summary: He was no stranger to rejection but this one stung more than usual. Perhaps it was the mention of his brother, or the fact that she seemed to have aimed her words at the part of him that he tried to hide. It would have been easy for her to simply say no, but she had made it a point to get under his skin and reject more than the playboy persona.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> important author's note: i literally had no choice but to write this bc i couldn't stop thinking about it and i won't ever apologize for it.

“I didn’t know that you were enrolling in the academy.” There was a clank of armor as Sylvain leaned against the rough stone of the stables outer wall. 

The object of his attentions scoffed at him while hardly sparing him a glance, standing up on her tiptoes to pull her horse’s saddle off. A true sight she was - covered with dust from a day of riding, with a smear of dirt across her cheek and nice clothes windblown from the areas on the open road where she’d allowed her horse into a sprint. Her long red hair was tied in a loose braid with a white bow, crimson strands falling to frame delicate features.

“Neither did I.” She replied, swinging the saddle onto the wooden rack with a soft huff. “My father decided for me yesterday. Then had me ride here today. I was very lucky to run into you at the gates.” 

“Kind of sudden.” He commented, moving closer with his fingers laced at the base of his skull. 

“Yes.” 

The girl made no further comment as she picked up a brush and started working the dirt from her horse’s coat. Sylvain watched her for a moment before offering the animal a carrot, even if it was only an excuse to move closer. In a barely noticeable movement she pulled her hair from it’s braid, red waves spilling around her shoulders as she reached up to braid her horse’s mane. 

He hadn’t seen her in several years, but she’s very much the same girl he remembers. Autumn Belle Kimball, only daughter to Thomas Aldrich Kimball in the southern part of Faerghus. A relatively new noble house, they’d attained their prosperity through goods and trading. Eventually it had become known that the guards they had employed were undefeated when it came to skirmishes in the area with thieves. Thomas had become a lord of his own volition, his daughter the first and only child of house Kimball due to the untimely death of his wife. 

There had been whispers before Sylvain came to the academy, that Thomas was looking to marry off his daughter in a bid to secure their status should anything befall them. They were minor crest bearers, but new nobles in a land steeped in tradition were always viewed with some trepidation. 

Yet, it had been hard for the other nobles to dislike the Kimballs. Thomas was charismatic and smart, always offering intuitive solutions and never asking for anything in return. He was a smart man, he knew that the only way to secure his reputation was to make their house irreplaceable. Marrying off his daughter wasn’t in his plan to do so and she remained free of promise to any nobleman. 

However it wasn’t for lack of interest. It wasn’t hard to see why there were plenty of noblemen frothing at the mouth to marry their sons (or even themselves) to her. She had always been soft and sweet, polite and quiet while standing obediently at her father’s elbow. Always done up just the right amount, with soft lips and pretty blue eyes. Soft red waves framed delicate features, which were currently peering up at him with a quirked eyebrow. 

“I think you’ve grown shorter since I saw you last.” The cavalier commented, towering over the girl as she took a step back to look up at him. 

“It’s that you’ve grown much taller.” Quipped back as she gathered her things, pulling a letter from her pocket and holding it out to Sylvain. “Where is Professor Byleth? I’m supposed to find them.” 

“Oh I can lead you to her, but why not have a cup of tea with me in my quarters before that?” Signature grin took up residence on his features, he knew a few men that would flip ass over teakettle should they see him leaning in towards her. And he knew that he was a handsome nobleman with a crest, a girl like her should be no problem to woo. Sylvain could only benefit her family, or rather her father. 

“You know, Sylvain, I never mentioned it to you because we didn’t see each other often but a few years ago your parents sent my father a letter. They wanted to arrange a marriage between myself and your older brother.” Autumn spoke quietly, taking half a step away from the taller redhead. 

The implications of such a thing hung between them. His parents hadn’t thought that a girl like her was fitting for their youngest, instead had offered her their older and crestless son. Not set to inherit anything. They had been hoping to gain whatever her father would offer to cross lines with the Gautier’s. Perhaps they had overvalued their blood. But they had been quickly denied by Thomas, and shortly after Miklan deflected. 

She knew what the eldest Gautier son had done. And now Sylvain knew that she knew. 

“Is that so?” He plays it off, though he can’t help the twist of anger that squeezed his heart. He carelessly shrugged his shoulders, again moving into her space. “I bet you’re glad that your daddy didn’t make you go through with it, considering where he’s at now.”

“I’m sure they have a nice girl picked for you.” Autumn said. Slender fingers plucked the letter from his hands. “It’s not me, though. And my father told me that I have to behave myself while I’m here. So please, just bring me to Professor Byleth.”

He was no stranger to rejection but this one stung more than usual. Perhaps it was the mention of his brother, or the fact that she seemed to have aimed her words at the part of him that he tried to hide. It would have been easy for her to simply say no, but she had made it a point to get under his skin and reject more than the playboy persona. 

“Yeah, yeah.” With a careless wave he gestured for her to follow him. It took two of her steps to match his longer stride and they traveled through the monastery towards the training grounds. “She’s probably training with Felix and Dimitri at this hour.” 

“I haven’t seen them in quite some time. It will be nice to catch up.” 

The conversation between them faltered before Sylvain perked, easy grin and sparkling eyes. He was rejected, yes, and it had stung but he could still save face. He stretches his arms above his head and listens to his shoulders pop. He swung his arms around, chuckling to himself as they entered the training grounds. 

“Is that why you said no to tea? Holding out hope that His Highness will take a liking to you?” As the words fell from his lips he knew they were cruel, but it wasn’t hard to suspect that her father had sent her here for a reason other than her studies. 

“No.” Her mouth curved into the smallest of pouts and Sylvain resisted the urge to push his thumb against her plush lower lip. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” 

“Don’t talk about my panties.” 

His rebuttal is cut off (probably for the best) when they turn the corner and Dimitri catches sight of the two redheads. His lance is lowered and both Felix and the professor turn to watch the new arrivals enter the training grounds. 

“Autumn Kimball?” The Prince’s gaze flicked towards Sylvain, who could be described as looking far guiltier than he actually was. “Why are you-?” 

“My father enrolled me here. Sylvain bumped into me at the gate. I’m supposed to find-”

“Me.” Byleth said. She lowered her training sword, cheeks hardly flushed with the effort of training. Felix followed suit, resting the tip of the wooden sword against the ground. 

“So you’re joining the Blue Lions?” His tone was flat and he was clearly agitated with the interruption in training. The lack of sting in his voice was as much of a welcome as she would get from the swordsman. 

“Yes, my father requested it of me.”

Sylvain noticed on day one how Autumn bent to Felix. To Sylvain’s memory, Felix had never cut the girl with his silver tongue but ever since the first time she witnessed it she’d made sure to answer quickly and keep a respectful distance. After watching her linger quietly at Thomas’s elbow at nearly every court event, it wasn’t surprising to see.

“Well, since I’ve escorted you to the professor I’ll be taking my leave now.” He bowed towards the girl, making a mockery of chivalry. Her murmur of thanks was lost in the space between them as the professor and Dimitri monopolized her attention. Sylvain didn’t mind, it made it easier for him to keep his facade intact as he slipped back towards the dormitories. He leaves as the professor is discussing housing, Autumn smiling softly at the other woman. She’ll be fine with them. The girl didn’t need a babysitter. And afterall, she had declined his offer of tea so it was up to him to find someone else to spend his evening with. 

The moment his back turned the smile fell from his features and his shoulders slumped slightly. He felt bad for her, she knew how little his parents thought of her just from their offer to pawn Miklan off to the Kimball family. He can only imagine what the poor girl’s life would have been like should her father have agreed to it. 

That evening he finds himself wrapped around a baker’s daughter, she smelled of sugar and citrus. When he commented on it she had giggled and told him about the specialty pastries she’d made that day and invited him to come and try them in the daylight. With his liar’s tongue he assured her he would, but the reality of it was that he found it overpowering. Nauseating almost. When he left her bed smelling like a vile mixture of sweets and sweat, he could only wish that it was strawberries and cinnamon instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> autumn gives in to sylvain's requests and agrees to teatime, but they're both stupid idiot redheads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sylvain is having feelings and doesn't know what to do about them and autumn is just trying to figure out how to function after falling off a pegasus onto a roof.

It didn’t take long for Autumn to settle into her new life at the monastery. Truth be told, Sylvain was somewhat disappointed in that fact. He hated to admit it to himself but he had been hoping that her quiet obedience to her father would translate to shyness among her peers. He had imagined that she’d be intimidated by the monastery and turn to him for support. He would offer her a shoulder to cry on and then from there she would turn into another notch on his bedpost. The one that was continually resisting his advances with a polite grace. She was a challenge and he wanted to prove (if only to himself) that he would get her. 

He caught glimpses of her flitting around from person to person throughout the day, smiling brightly and completely at ease no matter who she found herself with. Oftentimes he saw her with Mercedes and Annette, the three of them pouring over books and scrolls or Autumn sitting as still as a statue while the other two wove her crimson locks into intricate braids. 

Her second week at the monastery she showed up to class with her arm in a sling and her chin scraped up. When questioned she laughed before replying that flying wasn’t as similar to horseback riding as she thought it would be and the roof of the stables didn’t do much to break her fall. 

“Ingrid is a good teacher, but I just couldn’t get the hang of it my first ride.” Autumn affectionately bumped her hip against the taller girls before everyone settled into their seats. The lesson is standard, the professor focusing on battle formations for the entirety of their class time. 

Amongst the scribbling of quills Sylvain took few notes for himself, chin resting in his hand as he listens closely to her words. He would remember the important points, no reason to write them down only to inevitably toss them in the trash in a few days. The bells tolled as Professor Byleth is explaining how best to take down heavily armored foes. She must have had somewhere to be, because she dismissed them right away and gathered her things before anyone could stop her to ask her a question. 

“You know, you’re much prettier when you’re not all banged up.” Sylvain caught Autumn gently by the wrist of her good hand as she brushed past him. 

“I think the scrape adds character.” She tilted her chin up to expose the injury to him. The scrape wasn’t at all bad, Professor Manuela did a wonderful job patching the girl up. But Sylvain found his gaze slipping down the exposed skin of her throat and down to her gently protruding collarbones. Autumn looked down at him through her lashes and there was a flicker of concern across her features. “Do you not?” 

“You look like you got in a fight.” 

“I did. With the roof of the stables.” 

A pause before he released her wrist and she curled her fingers into the fabric of her skirt. For once, he felt as though he were at a loss for words. The rest of their classmates had filed out, laughing and talking amongst themselves before their voices faded into the courtyard. 

“Will you carry my books?”

It was only then that he noticed her books balanced on top of her sling, tucked tight against her frame. The guilt hit him like a ton of stone, there wasn’t any way he could he call himself a gentleman if he hadn’t even noticed her quiet struggle. 

“Tea?” Sylvain asked her halfheartedly as he stood and gently took her books and added them to his own that were tucked under his arm. 

“Do you have cinnamon?” 

It was the first day that she hadn’t rejected him outright and Sylvain had nearly dropped the books out of shock. Instead he smiled widely, and if it hadn’t been for her sling he would have slid his arm around her waist. 

“Of course! Just for you!” He matched pace with her, noting how cute her steps sounded next to his on the cobblestones. 

“I have a feeling you have a variety of tea to match the variety of women you have back to your quarters.” 

“That’s a bold assumption.” 

“But not incorrect.” 

Her comment drew a laugh from him and he shook his head. Red locks flop across his forehead as they continue on towards the dormitories. 

“You can leave my books in my room.” Hers is the first on the floor, right next to Ingrids. He wonders if the Professor had assigned it as such on purpose so that Ingrid could keep an eye on the girl and make sure she wasn’t falling for Sylvain’s charms. But the thought itself is fleeting, it would be silly for the professor to think such a thing when Autumn had been clear that she had no interest in him. 

“Why are there so many flowers in here?” 

“I like flowers - just put the books on the desk please.” 

Sylvain led the way down the hallway to his room, and ever the gentleman he held the door open for her as she stepped inside. A quick request from her that he leave it open had his lips quirked into the smallest frown, but he hides it from her as he made quick work of setting up a nice teatime. He had a small plate of pastries, admittedly he’d taken them with the intent of a late night snack for himself. 

“Here, take a seat while I go get some hot water. Have a cookie. You deserve something as sweet as you are.”

Her slender frame slid into a chair, good elbow resting on the tabletop as she watched his movements. Autumn picked a chocolate cookie from the plate and took a small bite, chewing before she spoke up. “Hey, Sylvain? Can you do me a favor? Please, stop with the sweet talk. It’s like bile pouring out of your mouth. Just be genuine with me, please.” 

Her words took him by surprise and he faltered in his preparations. Out of all the things that girls had said to him over the years. Yelled, cried, screamed, spit, growled or howled at him through all his time womanizing, not one of them had asked such a thing in such a tone. “Yeah, I’ll - I’ll try. Wait here.” 

His movements were mechanical down to the small kitchen at the end of the hallway and he fills the teapot up with water before setting it on the small burner. The way that she seemingly sees through him is frustrating. She asks him to be authentic and genuine, but she doesn’t truly know what that would do to her image of him. Inside he was angry, filled with rage at everyone and everything. His parents, his brother, and the girls that so easily gave into him in the hopes of bearing a child with his crest. Tendrils of steam rise from the spout of the pot and the smell of cinnamon filled the small space. Sylvain gingerly picked it up and swallowed his ugly thoughts. Crooked, easy smile replaced the scowl he wore when alone as he turned back into his bedroom. 

Autumn had stood from her seat, looking out the window to watch the sunset with her fingers resting delicately on the sill. The sound of his feet had her turning around to smile at him and he could feel his heart squeeze with something. He couldn’t tell if it was affection or anger, or perhaps a mix of both. It was hard to be angry with her when she didn’t appear to be intentionally toying with him, but her rejections were increasingly frustrating. He would keep trying, but he’d never take it too far. He was not his brother. 

“It smells so good!” Her face lit up with delight at his return and Sylvain couldn’t help but smile back at her. And despite the strange tightness in his chest, it felt as though his smile was real. 

“It’ll taste even better. Come on, sit.” 

The girl wasted no time sliding back into her seat as Sylvain poured her a cup of tea, both her slender hands wrapping around the cup as it warmed her fingertips. “You must be good at making tea.” 

“Why do you say that?” His head cocked in slight curiosity. 

“All the girls.” 

“You’re very hung up on that fact.” Sylvain took a sip of his own tea. 

“I’m just worried.” Autumn admitted. 

“Worried? About what?” 

“That you see me as just another conquest.” The confession came easily, flowing off her lips before she took a small sip of tea. Her words were followed by a small noise of delight that caused the feeling in Sylvain’s chest to wind itself tighter. 

“Ah. I understand.” 

He wasn’t sure what he saw her as, or what he truly wanted from her. She was a challenge. But even more than that, she was pretty and just his type. Her features were both soft and defined, pink lips, blueberry eyes and a small nose characteristic of the north. Long red hair that fell in waves to frame her face, which was adorably flushed from the warmth of the tea. Her hands were small and delicate and Sylvain can’t help but grit his teeth as he imagines what they’d feel like wrapped around him. Or how she’d look on her knees in front of him or spread out on her back on his bed. 

“Hm?” It was uncharacteristic of him to lose focus when talking to a girl, but she had him distracted without even realizing it. 

“I asked if you’re okay. You haven’t even touched your tea.” She shifted and knocked her bad elbow against the table. A sharp gasp followed and hearing that noise from her sent a jolt right down to his lap and he clenched his fist tightly under the table. 

“Yes, sorry. Just thinking, sweetheart.” 

“About how cute I am?” Her tone was teasing, soft lips quirked up into an easy smile as she sipped her tea. 

“Precisely that.” 

“You’re such a liar.” Autumn laughed, picking up a pastry with a strawberry on top. She ate the strawberry and ignored the pastry itself. The church bells tolled again and a look of disappointment touched her features. “I have to go, I have a study session with Dorothea.” 

Autumn stood and Sylvain abruptly stood with her, the two of them awkwardly standing across from each other. 

“Thank you, Sylvain, for the tea.” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Anytime.” In a swift movement he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. She squeaked in surprise and every fibre in his body screamed for him to wrap his arms around her waist and bring her closer but somehow he resisted. “Sorry. I uh - good luck. With studying.” 

Autumn had the pads of her fingers pressed against her lips as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and for a moment she was at a loss for words. There was no anger or resentment and she didn’t look as though she was upset. “Thank you. I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your night, Sylvain.” 

When she left, he locked his door and did something he hadn’t done for months. Instead of finding a girl from the village to satiate his lust he took care of it himself. The thought of having the flavor of another girl on his lips hadn’t done anything except churn his stomach. 

That night Sylvain fell asleep with the taste of cinnamon and strawberries on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i hope you're enjoying reading this because i'm having a hella fun time writing it. there will be smut soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a heart is a fickle thing, especially when it's been ignored it in favor of lust for..... ever.

Surprisingly enough, Sylvain’s impulsive kiss did little to change the nature of his relationship with Autumn. His own behaviour most certainly confused her, as the morning following their tea time she’d lingered about him for a bit as if waiting for him to reach out to her. But he hadn’t, and she’d taken that as her cue to pretend like nothing abnormal had happened between them.

Which was truly for the best. Despite the way that his chest tightened and heart stuttered when she looked at him with those big doe eyes he fostered a strange and wanting hatred for the girl. She infuriated him without even trying, he wasn’t sure if she was even aware of the effect she had. It was most likely the case that she didn’t, and that thought only made him even angrier.

And she always seemed to be somewhere in his line of sight. The monastery was a large place and there was no logical reason why every time he turned around he saw her giggling with a friend or reaching out to one of the stray animals. The truth was that he was drawn to her, his interest in her stretching past his desire for a conquest into territory he didn’t truly understand.

“Autumn!”

Sylvain’s head snapped up from the book he had open in his lap, though he’d been reading the same paragraph repeatedly in an effort to overcome his distraction and actually absorb the information. He watched as Dorothea moved across the courtyard towards Autumn, the songstresses long waves flowing with her smooth movement.

One of the stray dogs has his head resting on Autumn’s thighs, though the mutt lifts his head when Dorothea settles on their blanket. Autumn’s fingers absently scratch the dog behind his ears as she turns her full attention to her friend.

“Are you ready for our date tonight?”

_She was going on a date with Dorothea? That was ...hot._

“What time is it again?”

_Maybe if he was lucky he could “run into” the two of them and get in on the action._

“We’re supposed to meet them in the pub after dinner.”

Sylvain’s mouth curved into a scowl before he could help it. Who were they meeting? It wasn’t as though he’d given Autumn any indication that he wanted her to give her affections to him and him alone, and he certainly hadn’t been abiding by that imaginary rule - but he felt his face heat up at the thought of another man trying to woo her away from him. He hadn’t gotten that notch on his bedpost just yet.

“I’ll meet you by the gate, we can head down to the town together then?”

Sylvain clenched his jaw. She sounded excited, happy to be going down to a pub to meet a stranger. Some guy was stealing his prize away from him before he was done with her.

“Perfect. I hope these guys are better than the last two.” Dorothea mused, reaching out to pet the dog that was settled between them.

“Agreed.” Autumn’s nose scrunched in disgust and Sylvain felt a rush of satisfaction. If she was going out on bad dates, it would only make him seem more appealing by comparison.

It was then that he snapped his book shut and stood with a stretch, arms lifted above his head in an effort to bring feeling back into his limbs. As he listened to the girls, he’d been as still as a statue as if moving would cause him to miss something vital.

The girls voices fade into the white noise of the monastery, they’d switched their conversation to the latest romance novel as he took his leave. He spent the rest of the day with a hard rock in his belly. A knot of anxiousness that he would diagnose as indigestion due to the chicken he swore was undercooked at the dining hall.

No one questioned him when he declined a sparring session to go out to town, though Felix’s scowl was more scathing than usual.

Autumn Belle Kimball was a challenge. The girl who had denied his brother first. From a house of new noble blood, she should be tripping over herself to get between his sheets and link her family to the Gautiers. Uninterested in him, but seemingly uninterested in both Dimitri and Felix as well, whose families were the only ones higher ranking than his own.

Sylvain was equally accustomed to girls enthusiastically giving him what he wanted and being denied with sharp words and angry tears. Autumn didn’t do either. She was quiet acceptance, allowing his soft and impulsive out of character kiss to go unquestioned. He wanted to make her scream his name, to mark her as his and then throw her away to get rid of the ache of wanting that lingered about in his ribcage.

He wanted her for himself. He never wanted to see her again.

“Sylvain.” Dimitri’s voice cuts through his thoughts. The rest of the Blue Lions are looking at him with furrowed brows and soft frowns.

“Sorry, just tired.”

“You haven’t been listening this whole time. What has your thoughts so occupied?” The Prince continues, eyebrow raised in question.

“You’re not sick are you?” Autumn speaks up from her spot on Dimitri’s left, her soft lips curved downward into a cute little pout.

“Just thinking about…. Girls.”

“Typical.” Ingrid brushes him off, the rest of them returning to their conversation as the sound of silverware clattering against plates fills the space.

It wasn’t a lie. He’d simply hadn’t told the whole truth. He was thinking about one girl in particular.

Red hair splayed across his sheets, her legs spread lewdly for him as he buried his face between her thighs. He knew that she would taste divine, and on top of that she would mewl little a needy kitten for him when he really started getting her hot and bothered. Her cunt would grind against his mouth as he worked her closer and closer to her climax. His dick twitches in his pants as he thinks about sliding two fingers into her soaking warmth, goddess she would be so fucking tight around them that he was sure that his cock would split her tiny little body in half.

He would make her cum harder than she ever had before, no one would ever be able to compare to the pleasure that he gave her. Her hips would twitch against his face as her mouth fell open in a wordless cry, breath erratic as he gave her no time to catch her breath. Her nails would scrape against the sheets as she struggled for purchase in an effort to ground herself. And before she even recovered, walls still twitching around his fingers he’d yank her hips over to his and shove himself deep within her in one swift thrust-

“Goodnight everyone.” Autumn’s voice broke through his daydreams of her whimpers and his gaze snaps up. Apparently she’d told the Lions of her plans with Dorothea, they’re all assuring her that if she needed help all she had to do was reach out to one of them. “The two of us will be okay, the professor has taught us well.”

With her absence comes a release of tension from Sylvain’s shoulders, a soft sigh as he feels himself loosen up. The conversation is easier and he lingers for a while longer before excusing himself. Felix’s gaze follows him as he stands and the dark haired swordsman stands as well.

Years of familiarity with one another cause the two of them to fall into step next to one another as they walk towards the outside of the dining hall together, surprisingly Felix doesn’t immediately veer towards the training grounds.

“Ah, Felix! Coming to the pub?”

“No. Idiot.” A scarred hand reaches up towards Sylvain’s shirt, grabbing a fistful of the fabric. “Listen. Don’t forget that girl is a Faerghus noble, before you start toying with her.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Sylvain remained as relaxed as ever, pliant under his childhood friend’s grip on his clothing.

“Despite what you may think, you’re not subtle. We all saw you looking at the girl like a piece of meat. You watch her like you want to rip her apart. Even the Boar is concerned.”

“And what’s the worst that could happen if I decided to tear her apart one night?” The taller of the two leaned in, his eyes and easy grin turning dark as he found satisfaction from the mere thought of it.

“Chase a commoner, if you’re that desperate for a rut. Playing with nobility never turns out well.” Felix released Sylvain with a shove. The swordsman’s lip curled in disgust. “Not that I care what you do. I just don’t want to hear Ingrid screaming.”

“How noble of you, Felix. Perhaps you’ve got a little crush on her as well?”

“Fuck off, Sylvain. I’ve got no interest in a girl that doesn’t have a backbone to speak of.”

The jab at Autumn made Sylvain feel oddly defensive, his mouth opening and closing with surprise. He wanted to rebuff that statement, more so than when Felix commented on the other girls. Then it was only Sylvain feeling the need to defend himself from unsavory accusations, such as the girls being dirty enough to pass along infections that would make even Professor Manuela blush. But this time, he wanted Felix to know that Autumn wasn’t a girl like that.

“That’s- I mean she…” He trails off as Felix’s eyebrow raises in question. Sylvain shouldn’t care what anyone thought of the girl, hell, he didn’t even understand what he thought of her.

“Just keep it together.”

Felix’s words linger around Sylvain as he wanders into town, towards the pub where he knew the girls would be. Most of the older students and the knights gathered there on nights off, the place got pretty rowdy once the ale started flowing. Sylvain himself was a regular, meaning he received both sharp glares and big baby doll eyes from all the women in the place when he meandered in the door.

None of them caught his attention, his gaze swept the bar and sharp eyes found their mark within moments. A head of red hair, back turned towards him with her arm linked through Dorothea’s. The two girls are chatting up a pair of knights. The group of four doesn’t notice him as he takes up residence on a barstool, ordering himself a pint as he put on an air of aloofness to disguise how closely he was watching.

The drinks are flowing and it doesn’t take long before Autumn and Dorothea release their loose grip on each other and focus their attention on their respective dates. Sylvain watches as Dorothea’s lips brush against Autumn’s cheek, the brunette and her date heading from the bar towards the attached lounge. Presumably with the intention of getting something to eat in a more relaxed environment.  
The knight sat with Autumn is a young guy, he can’t be much older than Sylvain. There’s something so familiar about his features, narrow eyes with a blocky jaw and short cut brown hair. Sylvain was sure that he’d seen him before, though he couldn’t seem to place him from around the monastery. His train of thought is interrupted as it didn’t take long after their counterparts left that the guy started to move closer, getting blatantly handsy.

Truth be told, it wasn’t far off from how Sylvain acted with girls. A hand splayed on their knee that would steadily inch higher, leaning in and listening to their boring stories with false interest. Just to reach that goal, to earn one night of pleasure from a cute girl. All the same, it caused his fists to clench when he saw someone doing it to her.

Someone that wasn’t him. Not because she deserved better.

He’s on his third pint when the pair stands and the knight helps Autumn into her coat. It’s about time, Sylvain has already rejected two girls that approached him and gotten a solid slap on the cheek from one of many of his scorned ex-girlfriends.

He tosses some gold onto the counter and follows the pair outside, feet carrying him before he can even think about what he’s doing or come up with a plan other than confronting them on the cobblestones.

The street itself is quiet, he’d somehow lost track of them already. He’d only been two steps behind them, it seemed impossible that they’d have already found solitude somewhere. A soft gasp catches his attention, if he’d have been moving at all the rustling of his clothes would have disguised it.

A glance around the corner reveals them and Sylvain’s blood comes to a boil. Autumn is pressed between the knight and the wall, head tilted back while he nosed around her throat. His right hand was hidden underneath her skirt, while his left gripped her hip tightly and hold her in place. How could she give into this guy, but not to him?

Fueled by liquid courage, the cavalier marches up to the couple and drags the man away by the back of his uniform. “On your way.”

“Oi! What th’ fuck do you think you’re doin’, bud?” The other man is about to start swinging as Autumn yelps, smoothing down the front of her skirt and pressing her thighs together while her cheeks burn with a blush.

“Don’t you think your wife is going to be missing you?”

Sylvain hadn’t been able to place the man until he watched him help Autumn into her coat. He’d seen him do the same for his wife after mass at Garreg Mach only days before. He had remembered the disappointment he felt in watching such a lovely woman slide her left hand into her husbands.

“Wife?” Autumn’s features were suddenly overcome with regret.

“You’re a little piece of shit, you know that?” The cheating man swung a fist towards Sylvain, but compared to Felix the man moved like a snail. After a smooth dodge and a quick counterpunch, he was left out cold on the cobblestones.

“So you say no to me and let that guy fingerfuck you in an alleyway?” Sylvain turned to Autumn, shaking his hand out. No matter how many times he punched a guy, it would always smart against his knuckles. She was upset, disheveled, and so very sexy.

“I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”

“Right. I know that.”

A silence stretches between them as she adjusts herself, smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair. “I’m going home.”

“We can walk together.”

She doesn’t protest, so he takes her silence as an agreement. Vaguely, he wondered how much she had to drink. The girl seemed perfectly coherent but she would trip over her own toes every couple of steps. “If you don’t stop falling all over yourself I’m going to carry you back.”

“Hm?” And right on cue the heel of her boot got stuck in the cobblestones, heel snapping off. The two of them stared at it in disbelief before Sylvain scooped her up in a swift motion.

“Were you jealous of him?” She’s quiet until they reach the gates of the monastery, nose running along his jaw as she tucked herself against him.

“A little.”

“Oh. Ok.” She falls quietly into thought as he walks towards the dorms, never showing any sign of fatigue after carrying her. “I could have guessed that.”

“Huh. I’m that transparent?”

“You’re a cluster of lustful energy on legs.”

“Ouch.” He stops outside her door, but she makes no move to slide from his arms. In fact, her grip tightens ever so slightly.

“Take me to your room tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what's happening next ;) 
> 
> twitter: @winryrockbae  
fic commissions: information @ ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/berry013


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we got to the smut.

As per her request, Sylvain bypassed her room. They snuck down the hallway, past each of their sleeping classmates, and he didn’t question her nor did he put her down. With ease he managed her small weight solely in crook of his left arm as he opened the door to his room. It was consistently neat and uncluttered, ready for any pretty nighttime visitor. 

There was a great swell of pride in his chest as he placed her gingerly on her feet. Light spilled in from the hallway to illuminate her features, flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, watching him expectantly. He considered teasing her and telling her how goddamn easy she looked, but that might have only ripped away the opportunity for conquest. Finally, all those feelings of confusion and rage would disappear; it would only take this single night. He carelessly kicked the door shut while his hands found purchase on her hips, dragging her close and crushing his lips against hers needily. The kiss didn’t linger there, he was on a mission - trailing down her jaw and her throat before he pulled at the buttons of her uniform. Sylvain pressed her roughly up against the wall that he shared with Dimitri, earning a surprised squeak. Sylvain would argue that it was coincidence but perhaps some more feral part of him was wordlessly trying to stake his claim. They would know that she had given in to him, and that he would be the only one to have her tonight. 

“It looks like someone is watching us.” Autumn murmured as he dragged his teeth across her throat and he could feel the vibration of her words against his lips. It took Sylvain a moment to understand, but once he did he couldn't deny that the way his armor was piled up looked like a person hunched in the corner.

“I’ll fix it,” he assured her, always the best at telling women what they wanted to hear. He trailed his hands from her hips to the hem of her dress, seemingly innocent enough despite the current circumstances. A yelp escaped her when Sylvain grabbed a fistful of her skirt and tore it upwards, removing the whole dress in a fluid motion. Years of practice had perfected the technique. 

“Sylvain!” 

“Look! All better.” Her dress was tossed atop the pile to hide it away. The action was successful, it looked like nothing more than a pile of junk and fabric. “Were you worried someone other than me would see you like this?”

“I don’t care about you seeing. Touch me.” 

It was hard to resist such a demand, so again he pinned her roughly between his large frame and the wall, his hands splayed on either side of her head. His fingers itched to feel her - and why should he deny himself the pleasure? Sylvain ran his hands along her smooth shoulders and towards her throat, absently wondering if she’d let him choke her later. His thumbs mirrored each other and brushed against her jaw before his palms slid lower, eliciting a moan from her as he brushed against her bare chest. 

“No brassiere?” A smirk took up residence on his features. “Could it be that you were planning to let that lowlife from before play with your body all night long? You were just trying to make it easier for him, huh?” Sylvain kept talking as he pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. His hands worked in unison to draw forth a couple of moans from her that were sure to travel through the wall. “Autumn Belle Kimball, could it be that you’re a little whore?” 

It was a dangerous gamble to take, calling her such before he had her undone. Surprisingly enough, it paid off and she sucked in a sharp breath in lieu of an answer when he replaced one hand with his mouth. His name slipped from her lips in a whimper, a plea for more. Sylvain knew that sound well as he’d heard it many times before, but never had he been so quick to oblige. 

“I think you are.” He murmured around the rosy bud in his mouth. Sylvain glanced up at her from under his messy red fringe, amusing himself by adding a scrape of his teeth against sensitive skin when she seemed to be getting too relaxed. 

“And you’re a fucking tease.” She panted out, her head rested against the wall as she struggled for an even breath. Sylvain drew back to take a look at his handiwork. Her eyes were closed, lips parted as her chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths. Her nipples were slick with his saliva and when the cool air of his bedroom hit her sensitive flesh her fingers curled against the wall. He’d left a trail of reddening marks down her neck and chest - nothing that would show a few hours from now. “Is that all?” One of her hands came up to wipe the slick from her chest and in a flash he grabbed her wrist and pinned it above her head. He towered over her and she looked up at him, chin jutted out stubbornly. “Hm?” 

“Not even close.” His breath was hot against her ear as he collected her other wrist, both of her slender arms held easily above her head with one of his hands. “I’m going to ruin you.” There was a certain darkness in his words. She had caused him endless grief without even realizing it and this would be her retribution. “After tonight you’ll never forget the feeling of me pounding my cock into you.” His grip tightened and his free hand slid between her legs, teasing her through her panties. “Every man that bends you over will bore you. You can spread your legs for whoever you want, but you’ll always be thinking of me.” 

“Big words.” As if she was one to talk, entire frame shuddering as he slid a finger underneath the hem to feel her. As expected she was soaked and ready for him. But he was feeling cruel; Sylvain gathered the lace in his fingers and roughly yanked it upwards. So unexpected was the pressure of the fabric against her sensitive clit that she gave him exactly the response he was looking for. “Sylvain!” Autumn cried out without reservation, her entire frame writhing against him. 

His dick was painfully hard, but he knew how he wanted the night to go. He’d unravel her bit by bit, taking each thread of control she had no matter how much she tried to resist and he would earn her complete submission. She had been both innocent and stubborn since the moment she arrived at the Monastery, only adding to his anguish. But he would take both of those things from her tonight just as she had taken his peace of mind the second she slid off her horse and denied his initial advance. 

“Tell me what you want.” He smirked at down at her as he slid her wet panties along her slit and watched her squirm. Her fingers curled into her palms, blue eyes clouded with lust fluttered open. He didn’t get an answer. Maybe she was testing him, set on being defiant. It was completely possible that she was too worked up to string even a couple of words together. He slipped his middle finger down to the bundle of nerves and circled the pad around it a couple of times, fueled by her needy reaction. Her hips rolled against his hand until he stepped forward to pin her with his own body. She didn’t get to set the pace here. “Come on, Autumn. Tell me.” 

Faintly he heard a chair scraping against the floor through the wall, they must have awoken Dimitri and now the prince had forgone his bed for his desk. Sylvain’s thoughts didn’t linger on the prince for too long as Autumn gave him his answer. Her breath came in short, hot puffs as she trembled with anticipation. “You.” 

“Me, what?” He was being vindictive, teasing her so. 

“I want you. Please.” 

He released her wrists and let her arms fall to her sides, though she was barely allowed a moments peace before he had scooped her up and tossed her on the bed. Her breasts bounced with the springs and Sylvain took a moment to appreciate them with his tongue once more while he tugged the last piece of fabric off of her. The lace slid easily down her legs and she lifted her foot to allow him to tug it off easier. She'd already submitted to him, allowed him to drag her to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling and ready to shove his face between her thighs. Yet it didn’t give him the satisfaction he thought that it would, having her bend to his will. There was still a piece missing, but Sylvain was unable to identify it - especially when she hooked her knees over his shoulders. Autumn was spread shamelessly before him, even better than in his fantasies because this time he could touch her, taste her, play with her all he wanted, and she would let him. Warm and wet and pink, his fingers slid into her heat so easily that he groaned at the tightness around them. By no means did he go easy on her, he attacked her clit with his mouth and licked up all her wetness while thrusting his fingers in her relentlessly. Goddess, she tasted so fucking delicious that he thought he might finish in his pants like an overly excited preteen. 

“Ah!! Sylvain!! You’re so good.” Autumn was gripping the sheets tightly, back arched up off the bed while he worked on her. He’d done this a million times before and he could tell that she was getting close. The way she tightened and pulsed around his fingers had his cock twitching in his pants. But it wasn’t time for that yet. “I’m gonna… I’m so close. Keep playing with me, please don’t stop.” 

She had always appeared so innocent at her father’s side. Yet Sylvain had a nagging feeling that she’d done this before. Subtle movements of hers were dead giveaways to prior experience, the way her hips had rolled against his hand when he had her against the wall or the way she knew to put her legs on his shoulders. Sweet words poured from her mouth, combined with the soft gasps and mewls that fueled his ego but aroused his suspicion. It was like she knew exactly what to say to get him going. As if she’d completely figured him out, subtly wrapping him around her fingertips. The thought of her having the upper hand even when it was clear he had total control drove him wild, the thrusts of his fingers speeding up as he worked her towards her first orgasm. 

“You really are a little whore, huh?” He murmured against her thigh, taking delight in the sharp intake of breath as he pulled his mouth away from her heat just to taunt her a bit. She’d unintentionally tortured him for weeks now and it was only fair he return the favor. “Look, you can’t get enough and I haven’t even gotten my cock out yet.” 

“What if I am? Would it make you stop?” Her voice was breathy and her hips twitched as he nipped at the inside of her thigh. One of her hands found its way into his hair and she tugged gently at the bright strands, trying to pull him up towards her mouth. But he wasn’t done where he was. Sylvain knocked her hand away and turned his attention to her thighs, biting and sucking until a collection of purple and red marks decorated her the ivory flesh. Autumn was vibrating with anticipation, her hands were tightly curled into his sheets. 

“No. It wouldn’t.” Sylvain murmured, then he leaned forward and slid his tongue into her. For the second time he was stunned at the sweetness; she was like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of. Her noises were music to his ears and with the addition of his fingers, her cries only grew louder, her pleas more desperate. An itch settled in the back of his mind, one he wanted to ignore. He didn’t only want her tonight. He wanted her. All of her, all the time. This wasn’t about getting his dick wet or taking a girl away from someone else. It was her. She was the only thing that could sate him, that would be able to scratch that itch. 

She came undone for him after that and gasped out his name while her hands flew to his head. Fingers threaded through his crimson locks and she gripped him tightly as she rode out the waves of pleasure against his mouth. Sylvain slid his hands underneath her slight frame and gripped her hips tightly to hold her against his lips until her orgasm ran its course, licking up everything she had to give him. “You look lovely like this,” he told her as he stood, drinking in the sight of her unraveled upon his bed. It was even better than what he’d imagined she’d look like tangled in his sheets. 

Sylvain removed his own clothes without ceremony, he tore off his shirt and kicked off his pants in a flurry of movement before he crawled over her on the bed. Autumn watched him with a lust filled gaze as he hooked one arm around her waist and dragged her up towards the pillows. She offered no protest, and instead she hooked one leg over his hip and tried to pull him closer - needy. 

He had her right where he wanted her, grasping at him with her lips on his neck and her nails digging into his shoulders. He had hardly even asked for it, yet she had given him complete submission while begging him for more. He pushed her down and traced one hand over her throat while he lined himself up with the other, he groaned as the tip of his cock brushed against her. His fingers twitched against her jaw, he wanted to hurt her. Her submission hadn’t been as satisfying as he thought it would, the itch in his mind was incessant. Loosely, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and his cock twitched as Autumn tilted her jaw up, giving him access to her neck. Silent consent to his curious request. 

For a moment there was nothing but the crackling tension in the room, both of them soaking in the moment before Sylvain snapped his hips forward. He entered her in a swift motion, her high pitched moan cut off as his fingers tightened around her neck. Her breath was shallow, each thrust earned a choked noise from her lips as Sylvain pounded into her. She was so tight and hot that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for very long, not after he had denied himself so long in a bid to secure her submission. His entire bed shook, headboard cracking loudly against the wall as his body slapped into her thighs. 

He felt the tension building, Autumn’s nails scraped down his back as he shifted her hip to change the angle of his thrusts. Her second orgasm snuck up on them both, soft mouth open in a soundless scream as the pleasure rippled through her again. The way that she squeezed him had him struggling to hold on for just a moment longer, just to fuck her through her post orgasm bliss. To remind her that it wasn’t about only her pleasure, it was about him keeping control. Only when she started whining underneath him, sensitive and still reeling from the aftershock of coming so quickly, did he finally give into his own release. 

“Ah, fuck!” He waited until the last moment to pull out and shot his release across her stomach and chest, stroking himself slowly to prolong the pleasure. They were both tired, sweaty and hazy in their post orgasmic state but Sylvain stood and tossed her one of his dirty tunics. “You can wipe yourself up with that.” And while she was at it, he pulled on his lounge wear (or rather, only the shorts) and crawled back into his bed next to her. “You can stay if you want.” 

“I should go back, it’ll be harder to sneak out in the morning,” Autumn mused, but made no move to get out of his bed. “But on the other hand, I think if I tried to leave my legs might give out.” 

“So stay.” It wasn’t often that he invited girls to stay in his room, but he had been rough on her and his conscience got the better of him. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, bare back turned towards him as she took quiet breaths. He almost pulled her to his chest as he lay in the dark, lost in thought. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d woken Felix as well, the sounds easily could have traveled through Dimitri’s room to the next one over. But Sylvain didn’t care; he needed to scratch his itch, and after tonight he would be able to go back to womanizing and flirting without thinking of her face. Her body was really was all that he wanted from her, he’d tell himself that a million times if that was what it took to make him believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter and listen to me scream about my oc


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy rears it's ugly head. Sylvain isn't used to being ugly.

Sylvain woke to a weight on his chest. Not unpleasant or overly heavy, but soft and warm with just the right amount of pressure to be a comfort. He was content and it took a moment before he realized why. His eyes fluttered open and he’d be damned if he didn’t think he could get used to seeing the naked redhead in his bed, sleeping soundly while drenched in the soft morning light filtering through the window. Autumn was pressed against his side, her head on his chest and her bare skin pressed against his. Curious, Sylvain tugged the blanket down to her waist to catch a glimpse of the body he’d added to his count the night prior. 

She stirred, her breath hot against his chest as her grip around him tightened. Brows furrowed slightly and her lips curved into a soft frown, a noise of discontent slipping through them. Sylvain felt his cock twitch when she rolled away from him and onto her stomach. He ran his fingers down the divets of her spine to earn her quiet noises of pleasure. She was there for the taking and when he dipped his hand between her legs it only took a moment of toying with her to get her wet and ready for him. Sylvain positioned himself over her, pushing her legs apart and kneeling between her thighs. She was waking up a bit, hips angled towards him as she drifted in and out of sleep. 

Lazily Sylvain worked her with his finger, watching as his digit would disappear inside of her with each slow push. It was when he added his second finger that her eyes opened blearily, her voice scratchy from sleep when she spoke. “Sylvain?” Autumn didn’t protest his ministrations, she even raised her hips slightly. “ Are you already horny?” 

“How could I not be?” He leaned forward, his chest pressed against her back with his breath hot against the shell of her ear. “When you’re laying in my bed naked? You got wet so quickly, what were you dreaming about?” 

“The way you fucked me last night.” 

He didn’t care if she was telling the truth or not. Even if she was only saying it to get him going, it worked. His dick went from hard to painfully erect in his lounge shorts as he rutted against her. Sylvain hastily pushed them down to his thighs, freeing himself and in a swift thrust he sheathed himself inside of her. She gasped and scrabbled at the blankets and he groaned as for the second time in less than a day he found himself buried inside of her warmth. The nobleman knew that he wouldn’t last long, especially in the daylight when he was able to see their connection. With large hands he grabbed her hips and pulled them up while he pushed her knees apart with his legs. His thrusts were erratic and rough, one hand gripping her hips while the other tangled in her hair to push her head and shoulders down into the mattress. Autumn was pliant, submissive to the way he moved her body around and gripped her right hip tight enough that he was sure that he’d leave fingerprint shaped bruises in his wake. 

“Ah- Sylvain!” Through the mess of her hair and his own frantic movements, he could hardly make out her lips parted against the bed and her head turned to one side and she gasped and whined his name with each snap of his hips. Sylvain couldn’t help it, the hand that had been pressed between her shoulder blades slithered up into her hair and grabbed a handful and yanked her head back as he released her hip and used his free hand to spank her until her cheeks were red and raw. He barely had time to pull out before he came, shuddering as he finished on her reddened cheeks and watching as she slid down to lay flat on her belly while trying to catch her breath. 

“I’ll wipe it off. Don’t move yet.” Sylvain said and he pressed a hand against the small of her back. Autumn mumbled a thank you and lay still, it was possible that she had even drifted back to sleep. He watched as she caught her breath, taking in the sight of what he’d done to her since the night before. Her thighs were decorated with red and purple marks, he hadn’t been gentle with his mouth or his teeth. Her hair that was usually done in braids or left alone to fall in soft waves was messy and knotted from where he’d tangled his fingers in the fine strands. If she were to roll over, Sylvain knew that her chest would look the same as her thighs - claimed. He took the same rag from the night before and wiped her clean, tapping her thigh to indicate he was done before he stood up and started pulling on a clean uniform. 

Autumn was quiet as they both got dressed, until she sat on the foot of the bed and combed her fingers through her hair. Her brows furrowed cutely and she made a few noises of discomfort as she worked out some knots. “Hey, Sylvain?” She’d paused in her movements and was looking up at him with a curious gaze, clearly hesitant to continue. “I’m just wondering - is this something that we do now? Are we a thing or was it just for one night only? Are we going to do it again?” 

Sylvain couldn’t help the bite in his words as he looked at her. He wanted to badly for it to continue, but he didn’t do that. He was known for one and done and he wouldn’t let the confusing feelings he had welling up for her in his chest ruin that. His parents probably had a nice noble girl lined up for him anyway. “You want to do it again? I can bend you over and fuck you right now and this time I’ll blow a load in you so you can write home and tell your daddy that you got knocked up by a real noble. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?” 

She looked at him as though he had slapped her, and he may as well have. Her lips parted and already her eyes were brimming with tears. For a moment she sat, stunned, before hastily pulling on the rest of her uniform and grabbing her things that were strewn across the floor. Sylvain hated himself, hated that he said those words to her, that he was the reason she had tears silently streaming down her cheeks as she buttoned her blouse up just enough that she’d be modest if someone else was in the hallway when she stormed out. 

“You’re cruel.” Her voice wavered. He made her look so foolish. She had given him everything he’d wanted, asked for nothing in return and he had been so cold. Autumn looked pathetic, lingering by the door either hoping he would take it back or worried that she would bump into one of her classmates. “I don’t care about anything like that.” 

“You lie almost as well as you take a cock.” His words felt like a punch to his own gut, he could only imagine what they felt like to her.

“The only one lying here is you.” Autumn slammed the door behind her and Sylvain stared at it until her hurried footsteps faded into nothing. She was right.

Emotions bubbled up into his throat, Sylvain felt like he wanted to scream in frustration. Instead of roaring his fist connected with his wooden doorframe. He’d hurt her intentionally. She’d done nothing wrong other than exist in his proximity with a pretty face. She’d been unattainable, he’d wanted her more and more until she gave in with the hopes that once he had what he wanted she would lose her allure. But it had done the opposite, he craved her. Wanted her to offer herself up to him every night without competition. And now he’d burned his own bridge, punished himself by means of shoving her away at the cost of her feelings. Allowed her to believe the rumors about him, proved her inhibitions correct as he took advantage of her and then tossed her out the next morning after diving between her legs one more time. 

He closed his door with a bit more force than usual, looking up to find Dimitri watching him closely. The prince’s light brows were pulled together, mouth set in a thin line that displayed his anger. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Sylvain is surprised to hear the maliciousness in his own voice, nearly hissing at his crown prince. 

“I heard what you said to her, she ran down the hall in tears. Your behavior is both concerning and unacceptable, Sylvain. It’s bad enough that you do these things to the village girls, but Autumn is a member of our house, our ally and classmate.” Dimitri turned on his heel and left, speaking over his shoulder. “Make it right.” 

Even a direct order from the prince wasn’t enough to sway him, and Sylvain spent the day avoiding eye contact with his classmate. Despite the way that her smiles seemed softer, Autumn didn’t seem bothered. She talked and laughed with her classmates, even greeted Sylvain when he joined the group without seeing her behind Dedue. It was strange, as if she hadn’t left his room crying in the early hours of the morning. It didn’t appear as if she’d spoken of his cruelty to any of the girls either - for they all treated him normally as well. Apart from Dimitri, who’s gaze seemed to hone in on Sylvain throughout the day. 

It was infuriating. She didn’t deserve any of his anger, but he couldn’t help it when he found her after class and grabbed her by the elbow. “Hey. What are you planning? Why don’t you just tell everyone and get it over with.” 

In perhaps the biggest show of defiance he’d ever seen from the girl, she jerked her elbow out of his grip and glared up at him, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I don’t know what you take me for.” Her words are sharp, leaving no room for any interpretation. “I could have already told everyone about what you did to me. How cruel you are. How you tell honeyed lies and speak in soft murmurs until you get what you want. But it’s my own fault for giving into you in the first place. It was a lesson well learned and I blame myself for my choices, so your actions are safe from the rest of our class. Just… leave me alone.” 

Her words stung and Sylvain found himself staring after her until she disappeared around the corner, blinking in surprise as her words sunk in. He should feel relieved that she wasn’t going to tell the others, that they wouldn’t all know what a monster he’d been to the girl. But part of him had wanted it, wanted to pay for his actions. Her words were perhaps punishment enough, because they lingered with him and replayed themself through his head multiple times that day to distract him at every turn. Felix beat him soundly in a spar and left him black and blue all over. While cooking with Mercedes he set a pan on fire and worst of all, he tripped over his words while trying to pick up a commoner girl from the market. He had barely even struck up a conversation before she was storming off, shaking her head. 

After such a blunder Sylvain found that he lost his appetite and chose to forgo dinner. He’d eat later alone and he wouldn’t have to sit with his classmates, watching Autumn pretend as though nothing had happened and avoiding Dimitri’s watchful eye. He toyed with the idea of training, but found himself walking back towards the dorms. He’d take a nap, rest a bit before rising in the middle of the night to scavenge in the kitchens for food. Voices in the hallway caught his attention as he reached the top of the stairs, brows furrowed and lips curved into a frown as he recognized them as Dimitri and Autumn. 

“Thank you Dimitri, I feel much better after that.” Her voice was light, Sylvain could practically hear her smiling and his heart clenched. 

“Oh, Autumn. Don’t forget your jacket.” 

Sylvain turned the corner as Dimitri held up the girl’s blazer for her to slide her arms into. Once she had it on she turned and gave Dimitri a hug, her face pressed against his chest as he gingerly wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders. Over the top of her head, the two males made eye contact. There was tension nearly crackling in the narrow hallway, Autumn seemed to have sensed it because she pulled back with a soft frown and turned to see who Dimitri was looking at. Without another word she left the two of them alone, taking her leave towards her own room and closing the door with a bit too much force. 

“Working her way up the ladder, huh?” Sylvain hated the words he was spewing, the vile accusations he threw out about a girl that deserved none of it. “I’m surprised she didn’t spread her legs for Felix first, but Goddess knows he probably wouldn’t know what to do with her. Good for you, Highness.” 

“Sylvain.” 

“She mewls like a needy little kitten, doesn’t she?” He moved towards Dimitri with each word, there was an ugliness in his words and an ungodly rage brewing in his chest. “Did she beg you for more once you spread her across the bed? Or did she let you wrap your fingers around her throat?” Sylvain’s lips curled in disgust as he came to a stop in front of Dimitri, the two of them nearly nose to nose. “She feels good, once you slide your cock in. Nice and tight and warm-”

“Sylvain!” Dimitri was seething, teeth bared as he nearly growled. He was gripping the doorframe, the wood splintered under his fingers. A flash of the beast Felix warned them of, a warning Sylvain would have been smart to heed. “Stop it!” 

“Maybe it’s not just the Faerghus royalty she’s after. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s bent over for Claude or Hubert.” Sylvain reached out and grabbed the front of Dimitri’s uniform, Dimitri looked at his friend’s hand fisted in the fabric in surprise before roughly shoving Sylvain against the wall. “Actually, Dimitri - I think you went after her this time.” His voice cracked as he stood hunched, spine aching from the force of it slamming against the stone. “Just to teach me a lesson.” 

“Don’t be foolish!” There was a hint of guilt in Dimitri’s tone, brows knit in concern for the pain he might have caused with the unintentional use of his crest. “None of that happened. She came in for tea. She cried because of the way you treated her. And I don’t understand why, because she should be glad to be away from you. You’re acting like a monster.” 

He must look the part as well, hunched over and grinning madly. Eyes wild with jealousy. Because that’s what it was. Jealousy. He didn’t want to think of her with anyone else’s head between her legs or whimpering some other man’s name as she teetered on the precipice of pleasure. Only he should get to see her like that, undone and flushed. Her soft lips red and swollen from rough kisses and her body marked by his teeth, bruises shaped like his fingerprints left on her thighs and around her throat. He wanted to play with her, tie her to the bed and fill her up with toys and make her beg him for his cock. He wanted to fuck her slowly, feeling ever part of her and before the two of them came together. 

“Right.” Sylvain straightened and ran a hand through his hair, the frenzy in his eyes calming slightly as his spine protested the movement. “You’re right.”

“Apologize to her.” 

“Yeah.” 

He had hardly taken a step towards the redhead’s room when the professor appeared up the stairs, and looked between her two students. Despite her lack of emotion, it was clear that something was wrong. “I’ve been looking for you both. We have a new mission, a relic has been stolen.” Their previous conversation was forgotten as they both turned to give her their full attention. “The Lance of Ruin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @winryrockbae  
fic commissions: information @ ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/berry013


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They marched forward in a tight group, watching each other’s backs with the Professor leading up the front. Without hesitation she strode into the open room where Miklan was waiting for them, her students fearlessly filing in behind her. 
> 
> “Took you all long enough.” Miklan sneered, the Lance of Ruin dull in his hands as if it were sleeping, bored of its crestless bearer. The shock of red hair was so eerily familiar that several of Sylvain’s classmates sucked their breath in and Sylvain couldn’t help but let his lips curl into a twisted smirk. Miklan had only inherited two things from their father: his hair and his rage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those following this story, I'm sorry it took so long to update! And to those that are new here, I hope you like it so far. We're rounding the final stretch here, only a few more chapters to go!

”This is too easy. Your brother should have done better.” Felix scowled as he wiped his blade on the shirt of the bandit he’d just felled. It was just like Felix to break the tension, with words that were unintentionally humorous. Sylvain’s laugh escaped him more like a bark and he shook his head. 

“The real tough guys are going to be further ahead. My brother used these unskilled guys for fodder. We should keep moving.” 

“Maybe the next group will actually be a challenge.” Felix grumbled, moving forward as the professor appeared out of nowhere to match his stride. Faintly Sylvain could hear her chiding Felix for his bluntness, and Sylvain wasn’t sure how to feel. Miklan wasn’t a good brother by any stretch of the imagination, but he was still a brother. 

“Are you doing alright?” Dimitri had been annoyingly watchful ever since Sylvain’s encounter with him a few days prior. Thanks to how close this mission hit home for Sylvain, the Prince hadn’t been on his back about apologizing to Autumn. He should still apologize to her, but there were more pressing matters at hand. 

“Apart from the fact that we’re here to recover my family’s stolen relic and kill my brother, I’m doing great.” Sylvain’s voice was dry and a soft cough over Dimitri’s shoulder caught his attention. Autumn was healing Ashe’s broken finger, the archer thanking her with flushed cheeks. Vaguely Sylvain wondered if Ashe’s cheeks were pink from exertion or from a crush and before he could push past Dimitri to tease the poor kid about it, the sound of armored feet pounding on the stone towards them diverted his attention. “Get ready for round two, Your Highness.” Sylvain tore over the rocky ground with Dimitri beside him, grateful he had left his horse back at the Monastery. He met a scraggly bandit head on, a man with thin hair and several missing teeth. While they grappled a man charged at Sylvain from the left and as his arm raised to strike him with his lance a bolt of light caused the bandit to fall to his knees. Autumn wasted no time moving on, barely sparing him a glance. At least she wasn’t so petty that she’d let him die. 

The second group was hardly any stronger than first, though they did emerge with a few more cuts and scrapes than before. “Miklan is up ahead.” Sylvain informed his classmates, having beat the information out of one of his brother’s underlings. “Let’s get this over with.” 

They marched forward in a tight group, watching each other’s backs with the Professor leading up the front. Without hesitation she strode into the open room where Miklan was waiting for them, her students fearlessly filing in behind her. 

“Took you all long enough.” Miklan sneered, the Lance of Ruin dull in his hands as if it were sleeping, bored of its crestless bearer. The shock of red hair was so eerily familiar that several of Sylvain’s classmates sucked their breath in and Sylvain couldn’t help but let his lips curl into a twisted smirk. Miklan had only inherited two things from their father: his hair and his rage. 

“Hand the lance over, Miklan.” Dimitri stepped forward, though Sylvain stopped him with a large hand splayed over his chest. 

“He won’t.” 

“Sylvain, it’s so nice to see you here with all your little friends. I think I’ll beat you as roundly as I did when we were children. Then throw you in another well and leave you to rot.” 

“You’ve always had such a way with words, Miklan. You should have become a poet instead of an embarrassment.” Sylvain heard his classmates mutter amongst themselves, their feet shuffled as they started to fan out. Weapons were raised and shouts of surprise sounded from behind him as more bandits filed in from cracks in the stone walls. An Ambush. Of course. Miklan was a Gautier. He wouldn’t start a fight without a strategy to trap his opponents like little rats. Perhaps the two of them were more alike than Sylvain cared to admit. The Professor was shouting orders, partnering off the class as Miklan’s reinforcements charged at them. 

“Don’t be reckless.” Sylvain had to look down to catch Autumn’s gaze when she appeared next to him, her fingertips alight with magic. She huffed up at him, clearly unhappy with the Professor’s assignment, but it made sense. The Professor was perceptive, she knew that Sylvain was going to charge forward as he always did and sending a healer to his side would at least give him a fighting chance. “Did you hear me?” Autumn nudged him and Sylvain nodded. 

“Yes, but I have no intention of taking orders from you.” Sylvain scoffed at her and her lips twisted into an even deeper frown. 

“I know you.” Miklan’s gaze slid from Sylvain to Autumn, eyes flicking across her features as she held up surprisingly well under his scrutiny. “You’re the Kimball girl. You were supposed to be my little wife,” Miklan laughed. It was a booming, insane sound that came from the deepest recesses of his chest. “I bet you’re happy that your daddy didn’t make you go through with it now. But you know what? I’d still like to rip you apart. Maybe we won’t kill the whole class.” 

Sylvain watched as Miklan’s words sent a shiver through Autumn, though he had to give the girl credit. She didn’t flinch back or offer him a response other than readying herself for an attack. Sylvain felt something stir in his chest, the flash of anger he felt at his brother wasn’t based off of the torment he’d made Sylvain endure as a child or the shame he’d brought to their house (frankly, Sylvain didn’t care about that) but rather the idea that he would put his hands on Autumn. He didn’t deserve to touch her and Sylvain stepped forward to block her from sight. “That’s not how you flirt with girls, Miklan. Try being a little nicer.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears, darker than usual. 

“Since when are you nice to girls?” Miklan’s armor clanked as he moved towards them, Sylvain felt Autumn move back to his side. Miklan raised the Lance of Ruin and it glowed faintly, disinterested. “You’re not nice to anyone. You’ve done nothing but ruin things your entire life ever since the day you were born.”

“I think I’ve heard this one before.” Sylvain raised his own lance, the Professor had just gotten him an upgrade the day before and the heavier metal felt good in his hands. A rush of energy flowed through him and he looked at Autumn, tendrils of magic twined their way through her slender fingers as she cast something over him. Without a second thought he charged forward, surprised to hear the patter of Autumn’s feet following behind him. She truly was taking her assignment seriously, watching out for him despite how cruel he’d been to her.

Miklan parried his initial attack with ease, Sylvain’s recklessness a trait that the elder knew far too well. Before Sylvain had a chance to recollect, Miklan’s fist swung up and connected with his jaw. Bone shattered under the metal gauntlet, a burst of pain behind his eyelids as Sylvain flew backwards. Humiliating, really. Somewhere in the distance he heard Ingrid shouting. Before he could even fully feel the pain of a broken jaw, he felt something soft press against his flesh white hot run through his veins followed by a cooling sensation that he knew to be a healer. Autumn was already glaring at him, working his jaw back into place with gentle fingers and white magic. 

One hit and he was seeing stars, left to blink up at Autumn in confusion as she urged him back to his feet. The light seemed to linger about her face like a halo, her hair falling from it’s braids and mouth set in a determined line. All at one his senses seemed to be knocked back into him, the clang of metal and the shouts of his classmates filled his ears as he jumped back to his feet and faced down his older brother. Miklan was as imposing as ever, skin stretched tight across his face in a scowl, his scar distinguished. Sylvain wrapped his fingers around Autumn’s upper arm and yanked her out of Miklan’s reach, she was so light that with his adrenaline pumping he tossed her a bit far and left her to stumble over some rubble and catch herself on a wall. 

“Selfish, Sylvain. You should learn to share.” Miklan clicked his tongue against his yellowed teeth, voice low and threatening. In a booming voice that he somehow was able to project over the battle he gave his men an order. “Don’t kill the women.” 

An unspoken fate awaited them and a quick glance around showed Sylvain that his female classmate’s faces had gone pale. The Professor however didn’t stutter in her movements and mowed down three foes while they were distracted with the prospect of what the boss was insinuating. It was clear that she had no intention of letting any of the bandit’s lay a finger on her students. 

Sylvain growled and charged forward with his lance raised. A small flash of red next to him reminded him that Autumn was by his side, ready to heal anything that Miklan would think to inflict. He caught Miklan in the shoulder with the lance before Miklan brought the flat of the Lance of Ruin down on Sylvain’s shoulder, the bone cracking under the relic. Autumn was able to heal him, though his movement was still slowed when he reached to move her out of Miklan’s way. 

Miklan’s fingers tangled roughly in Autumn’s hair, a frightened yelp escaped her as the elder Gautier nearly lifted her off her feet. There was a devilish gleam in Miklan’s gaze as he watched the horror cross Sylvain’s features, grip in Autumn’s locks tightening. She squirmed uncomfortably in his grip, thin elbows bumped against his armor and lips moving as she frantically recalled a defense incantation. “Ah, ah, ah,” Miklan chided, “none of that now.” Lance of Ruin was carefully balanced in the crook of his elbow, as a small knife was produced and held against Autumn’s delicate jaw, as a droplet of crimson gathering on the tip as she fell silent. 

“Miklan!’ Sylvain felt a burst of rage in his chest. How dare he touch her. To put his hands on her so roughly, threaten her life as if she were nothing but leverage. And if Sylvain were to fall here, he hated to imagine the horrors that would befall her if he wasn’t able to protect her. “Let her go, now!” It was only proving to Miklan how much Sylvain cared, the angrier he got — but Sylvain couldn’t help it. She was his. Autumn was his. 

“I don’t think I will.” The fighting around them had ceased, the few men left had retreated behind Miklan and the rest of the Blue Lions were treading carefully for fear of Miklan sliding the dagger into Autumn’s throat. “You two, hold her.” Miklan turned and shoved Autumn towards two of his men, who caught her eagerly with open palms. The sight of them feeling her had Sylvain seeing red and again he charged at Miklan, this time tackling him to the ground as the two of them went at it with fists like they had when they were children. The biting pain of metal against flesh or the crunch of bone under their gauntleted hands as they threw punches at one another. With a heavy sigh Miklan’s head fell back against the stone, and Sylvain, bruised and bloody took a step back and turned towards the men who were still restraining Autumn. 

“Let her go.” Judging by the look on Autumn’s face, the horror and the worried crease of her brow, Sylvain could only assume he looked monstrous. 

“Sylvain!” Dimitri’s shout had the Gautier heir spinning on his heel, a bubbling rising from the Lance of Ruin to take over Miklan’s form. 

A roar shook the building, the rest of the Lions scattered to surround the beast that was standing where Miklan once lay. The Professor, ever unfazed, led the charge and swung her sword at it’s throat only to make a small incision and enrage it even more. A flash of lightning to his left and Autumn was free from the men that had been holding her back, her hands clapped against Sylvain’s swollen cheeks and he felt the liquid heat then cool wash over him again as Autumn swayed on her feet. He was definitely testing her abilities as a healer, she didn’t have much more in her so he had better make his efforts count. 

Much like wolves surrounding prey and darting in one at a time to attack, the Lions took turns attacking the beast. Dimitri’s crest flashed above his head and he swung his weapon at the creature’s hind leg, landing a blow with a sickening crack. The monster screeched and swung around, Sylvain scowled and stalked forward sliding his lance into it’s jugular. It’s…. Miklan’s…. whatever. 

A final shudder ran through it’s dark, bubbling form before it collapsed in a pool of it’s own black blood and lay still, monstrous form melting away to reveal Miklan’s corpse. 

For the first time, Sylvain looked around at his classmates. Dimitri, Ingrid and Felix were covered in blood, Dedue was stoic as ever but his breath was labored. Mercedes and Autumn were exhausted, they leaned heavily on one another as they tried to muster up the energy to heal their classmates once more. Ashe and Annette weren’t quite as bloody, due to the distance between themselves and their targets, but it was clear that they were about ready to drop. Even the Professor was breathing a bit more heavily than usual, her own gaze sweeping her students for damage. 

“Professor, I’m sorry.” Sylvain knew that his selfish charge had caused more damage than he had anticipated. He had thrown them all into fighting before she’d been able to put together a plan. 

“It worked out fine in the end, but you need to be more aware of the people around you.” Byleth’s voice was as even and soothing as ever as she looked towards Autumn. The girl was pale and unsteady, hair tugged from her braids with a trail of blood dripping from her jaw to stain the collar of her shirt. She sat with the other girls on piles of rubble, her head resting on Mercedes' shoulder as her eyes fluttered closed with a soft sigh of relief. “Your actions have consequences for more than just yourself.” 

“Right.” 

They took a short while to gather themselves before Sylvain picked up the Lance of Ruin, pointedly ignoring Miklan’s dead body only several feet away. They carefully picked their way out among the rubble and the fallen bandits, the cool night after was a relief to all of them and a collective sigh rose up before they started the trek home. 

Manuela was thankfully there and sober when they arrived back, able to heal them up and send them off to bed. Sylvain anticipated that he would lie in bed, unable to sleep after the horrors he had witnessed, what his brother had said and done — but as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out cold. 

He’d only been sleeping for a short while when a soft knock at the door caused him to roll to his side and groan something that must have sounded similar to “come in” because Autumn poked her head in, looking sheepish. 

“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t had the chance to say anything before she was apologizing, pretty blue eyes brimming with tears. “I know I should be bothering you but I couldn’t— I can’t sleep. I keep feeling his hands in my hair. I can still feel their breath down my neck.” Her voice wavered and in the dim moonlight Sylvain could see on her bare arms the dark marks of the bandit’s fingerprints. “I don’t know why I came to you.” 

“C’mere.” 

It was his fault. He shouldn’t have charged knowing she would follow, let her get in Miklan’s reach. His heart stuttered, he forced his breathing to remain even as he lifted up his blankets for her to climb into his bed with him. She was so small and delicate as she buried her face against his chest, legs immediately twining with his. Her tears left a wet spot on the front of his tunic as she fell asleep, her head tucked neatly under his chin. 

It became a routine after that, Sylvain had started looking forward to the knock that would come at his door just past midnight every night. She’d sleep with him soundly and leave without a word in the morning whether he was awake or asleep, or just pretending to be asleep to spare her the embarrassment of showing what she would consider a weakness every night. 

How she could depend on someone that had treated her so terribly was the missing piece of the puzzle, had she a malicious bone in her body Sylvain would assume she was plotting something, but that wasn’t like her. She was a far better person than he was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter @winryrockbae for updates and fic commission info!

**Author's Note:**

> an amendment to my note at the start of this fic: i'm sorry for writing it but we're really in it now.
> 
> more about autumn @ resilientboned on tumblr


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